Laying down on the green gra** Inside the underground train Turning pages, and you're not really falling You're nowhere near the bottom Raindrops stain the new gla** There's mountains in the bookcase, moldy Drumming fingers, and you're not really falling You're nowhere near the bottom You're nowhere near Look down, you're nowhere near Who said they were leaving? And who's really running away? You said it'd be like the movies We don't need a tragedy To share the same pain